


Those Who Dare to Fail Greatly

by Supergeek21



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Ambiguous Relationship, Asexual Relationship, Author Projecting onto Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Needs a Hug (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley are Friends, Aziraphale has anxiety, Aziraphale is Bad at Being an Angel (Good Omens), Based on a True Story, But Probably Just About Gabriel, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Saves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Watches Aziraphale Eat (Good Omens), Fluff, Gabriel is a Terrible Boss, Good Omens Celebration 2020, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Pre-Apocalypse, Pre-Relationship, Queer Plutonic Relationship, Self-Indulgent, The Arrangement (Good Omens), The Metatron - Freeform, canon typical drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27109831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supergeek21/pseuds/Supergeek21
Summary: Aziraphale has been ordered to apply for a promotion he doesn't want. Luckily Crowley has a plan to get him out of it.(A real-life inspired contribution to the Good Omens Earth's Birthday Celebration)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 57
Collections: Good Omens Celebration Birthday Edition





	Those Who Dare to Fail Greatly

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and Happy 6024th Earth's Birthday! I wanted to write something special for today, but instead of sticking with the traditional Birthday Party/Anniversary idea, I decided to do something more personal. Oct. 21 is a significant day for me this year. On Oct. 20 last year I ended a four-year relationship that had become absolutely toxic. It took me almost two months to work up the courage to do it, which was helped along greatly by the Good Omens fandom, which I had only just discovered and in a round-about way it led me to see what I really wanted from a relationship. On October 21 I was reading the Good Omens Script Book and realized that very day was the Earth's birthday, and I thought, 'how appropriate, it's the first day of the rest of my life.' 
> 
> Like many of my stories, this one can be read as pre-relationship Aziraphale and Crowley (sexual or not), with the boys as completely plutonic friends (a head canon I fully support), or anything in between. The events are based loosely on something that really happened to me with my ex. I am played by Aziraphale and Crowley is actually my brother, who in many regards is my best friend. I hope you enjoy this little bit of nonsense.
> 
> A big thanks also goes out to @Kaiannathi for a last minute beta read when I was having doubts. 😊

** London, October 1999 **

Crowley knew something was wrong the second he entered the bookshop. He had suspected there was a problem when he had arrived in the park for his monthly meeting with Aziraphale and hadn’t seen the angel’s poof of blond curls at their usual bench by the duck pond[1] and the feeling of unease had only grown as an hour had slowly ticked by. Something had to be wrong!

As the little bell tinkled above the shop door Crowley was hit by a wave of palpable anxiety as he took in the chaos before him.

The bookshop was never what any human would call “organized” (and it wasn’t now). It was however in a state of disarray that made even Hell’s filing room from the 14th Century look like the Bodleian Library.

This could mean only one thing: Aziraphale was restructuring his filing system; a sign of trouble if there ever was. Crowley had only seen him do this once before in 1860[2] when he’d been given the impossible[3] assignment to crush Darwinism, which despite being somewhat accurate,[4] Gabriel had insisted was a plot from Hell to spread doubt in the Almighty.[5]

 _No doubt about it then_ , Crowley thought. _If Aziraphale is reorganizing again, it means he’s stressed about something._

“Angel!” he called into the mess, standing on tiptoes to see over the stacks of books piled on every available surface. Crowley heard a crash from somewhere in the stacks and a flustered grumble that might have been a curse word in Aramaic, before Aziraphale’s cherubic face, complete with his ridiculous, unnecessary reading glasses, poked out of the shadows.

“Crowley!” he gasped, sounding panicked. “I am so sorry, Dear Boy! What time is it? I’ve missed our meeting, haven’t I? I lost all track of time.”

“It’s okay, Angel, no harm done. Is everything alright here? It looks like a bomb went off…”

Aziraphale groaned and attempted to wipe the dust from his waistcoat. “Not exactly,” he admitted with a bitter huff. “I’ve been at this for the last three days, apparently. I was trying to find some personal files and then one thing led to another and I thought perhaps I had better reorganize so I could better decide what to take with me if I…”

Aziraphale’s speech had been getting faster and higher pitched as he talked until his voice broke on the last words.

Crowley felt a stab of panic and wove through the teetering stacks of books and papers to place a hand gently on his friend’s shoulder.

“Angel? Aziraphale? What’s wrong? Where are you going that you need to take the books?”

Aziraphale seemed to steady a bit at the contact. They didn’t touch often these days and the firm pressure of the cool hand on his shoulder seemed to anchor him. He took a deep breath before he began to speak again in his normal voice.

“It’s a long story,” he said with a sigh. “Why don’t you come in back and I can explain.”

Crowley nodded and released the angel’s shoulder to follow him through the maze of clutter to the back room.

The back room of the shop was messier than usual, though this mess at least seemed confined to the area around Aziraphale’s desk and had left the chair and sofa mostly unscathed.

Crowley took his usual sprawled seat on the sofa as Aziraphale continued to fuss about making tea.

Crowley snapped his fingers and the angel suddenly found the job done for him. He gave a little nod and murmured ‘thank you’ in a voice just above a whisper before finally settling himself in his chair with his angel-wing mug in hand.

Crowley waited for Aziraphale to take a sip before pressing for more information, though he was aching to know what had put the angel in such a state.

“Well?” he asked when it seemed his friend had composed himself a bit. “What’s going on?”

Aziraphale drew a deep breath, apparently thinking how to begin.

“Well,” he began with a nervous squirm. “I may have to move to America,” he said, face falling even as the words left his mouth.

“Wot?!” Crowley spat.[6]

“I’m not happy about it either,” Aziraphale snapped. “I don’t know if I have a choice though. Gabriel was quite insistent…”

Crowley swore under his breath. _Of course, this was because of that wanker, Gabriel!_ he thought, bitterly.

“Well…” he started, trying to remain calm. “Maybe it won’t be for long… When do you have to leave?”

“I’m not sure really,” Aziraphale answered. “It’s not actually set in stone, it’s just a possibility at the moment. The Metatron still has to make a final decision, you see. That’s why I was going through my files. I need to submit some paperwork first.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait! Back up!” Crowley sputtered. He was utterly lost now. “If you’re so upset about this, why are you turning your shop upside down and tearing yourself apart to submit paperwork for it?”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit complicated Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed. “You see it all started when Gabriel dropped by a few days ago…”

\---------------------------------------------

** 3 Days Earlier **

Aziraphale was just finishing some repair work on the binding of a rare Oscar Wilde he’d recently acquired when the door of the shop,[7] flew open.

“Aziraphale!” a deep voice with an American accent boomed, causing the principality to jump.

“Gabriel!” he yelped as confidently as possible. “What a surprise.”

“Well I didn’t suppose you’d be up to anything important. I’ve seen your recent reports,” the Archangel said with a smug smile.

Aziraphale gave tight grin in return. He was never sure if the Gabriel meant to be insulting when he said things like that or if he was just unintentionally pompous. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t do to be impolite.

“Yes, well, just attending to some Earthly business,” he said. “I’m expecting some intelligence on the Opposition’s movements any day now. Would you like anything to—”

“No, thank you,” Gabriel bellowed before Aziraphale could finish and giving the principality a hard slap on the shoulder. “You know I don’t go in for gross matter. Bad for the corporation,” he added with an appraising glance Aziraphale was more certain was meant to be insulting.

“Anyway, glad to hear you’re staying on your toes, that’s the sort of dedication we’re going to need at our new field outpost.”

“New outpost?” Aziraphale asked nervously, hands moving subconsciously to fidget with his pinky-ring. “What ever are you talking about?”

“We have reason to believe there’s going to be some trouble in America this coming century. We’re thinking of moving a field agent there fulltime.”

Aziraphale gulped. He hadn’t done a stint in America for some time and never for more than a few months. He’d gotten comfortable in London. He didn’t want to relocate for a century.

“New York?” he asked, hoping for the best.[8] “Chicago?”[9]

“No were thinking something more central,” Gabriel said. “Florida and Ohio seem to be disproportionately influential if you read American newspapers.[10] Not sure why.[11]”

Aziraphale cringed. “Yes. Well, I’m not really sure that would be for me,” he said carefully. “Afterall, you know I have my hands quite full here… I mean, there is Crowley lurking around after all… and who would run the bookshop?”

“I’m sure you could run a bookshop in America Aziraphale. It has been a decent cover for you. Besides,” Gabriel added cheerfully, “I already told the Metatron you’d be applying!”

“You what?”

“Yes, he told me about the ‘Angels in America’ plan and I said right away, ‘Aziraphale could stand to mix things up.’ It’ll do you some good. He was very enthusiastic with all your experience. Says he’s looking forward to going over your C.V.”

“My C.V.?[12]”

“Yes, that’s what I actually came to talk to you about. They’re making decisions in two weeks, so you need to get cracking on spicing up that old thing. Really try and make that portfolio glow, Sunshine.”

“But—but—” Aziraphale stammered.

“Don’t mention it,” Gabriel said with another obnoxious smile. “You’ll do great! I’m counting on it. You wouldn’t let me down now, right?”

“R-right…” Aziraphale said with a sigh.

“That’s the spirit!” Gabriel said. “And don’t worry about Crowley either,” he added, almost as an after-thought. “We’ll send someone to check in here and see to it he gets a good thwarting now and then.”

Aziraphale fought the urge to be sick[13] and nodded again to Gabriel with a smile most humans would have found entirely too toothy, but which Gabriel saw no issue with.

“Good Soldier!” Gabriel commended him with another crushing pat on the back. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing your promotion come across my desk. Just send the documents straight to the Metatron by next week.”

Then as swiftly as he had arrived the Archangel Gabriel was gone, with just the tinkling of the bookshop door’s bell and a slight whiff of ozone lingering in the air to suggest he was ever there, and Aziraphale was left standing dumbstruck in his own home.

\---------------------------------------------

** Present Day **

“So, there you have it! If I DON’T submit the paperwork Gabriel will find out from the Metatron and I’m sure I’ll have to deal with some sort of retaliation for making him look bad, but I don’t WANT to do it! I just don’t know how I can possibly get out of it…”

Aziraphale was starting to breathe too fast again as he talked and took another long sip of tea to steady his nerves while Crowley continued to stare at him, stupefied. 

“Why you?” the demon finally asked, still terribly confused.[14] He couldn't have Aziraphale move away for a century! Not when they'd been getting along so well again the last few decades; it would be so dull! 

“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said with a shake of his head. “Perhaps he thinks he’s being nice?”

“He’s never tried being nice to you before,” Crowley snorted. “Why start now?”

Aziraphale shrugged and let out another sigh. “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he said. “I guess I’ll just have to hope some other angel who actually wants the job gets it.”

Crowley’s eyebrows suddenly shot up his forehead and a wicked smile crept across his face as an idea came to him.

“That’s it, Angel!” he shouted, slapping his hand down on the arm of the sofa so hard it creaked. “I’ve got it!”

“Got what, Dear Boy?” Aziraphale asked with a glint of hope in his eyes that did not match his tone.

“How you can get out of this, obviously,” Crowley replied, tipping his sunglasses up onto the top of his head so Aziraphale could see the somewhat maniacal excitement in his yellow snake eyes.

“How? I told you, I can’t NOT submit my resume, Gabriel would be very upset with me.

“I never said you shouldn’t submit paperwork, Angel,” Crowley said with a sly grin. “But who’s to say it has to be GOOD paperwork?

“I don’t think I follow…” Aziraphale replied, feeling confused but unable to fully resist Crowley’s enthusiasm.

“Gabriel told you to update your C.V., right?”

“Right.”

“Well you absolutely should,” Crowley said. “Only do it such a way that nobody would ever give you the job!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth as if to retort then stopped and closed it again, the hint of a smile playing at his lips as he thought the idea over. “Do you think that could work?”

“Got to be worth a try, hasn’t it?” Crowley said with a shrug. “Gabriel gets his nominee considered, you don’t have to move, I don’t get smote… Everybody’s happy!”

“Wouldn’t this be lying though?” Aziraphale asked, hesitation still evident in his voice.

“Uh—ye-Yeah,” Crowley stammered. “Maybe a bit…”

“What if I get caught?” the angel pressed, the hesitation clearly weakening.

“Well that’s going to be the tricky part,” Crowley admitted. “You can’t openly lie so you’ve got to find subtle ways to make the thing look bad without being obvious you were trying to cock it up.”

Aziraphale’s face brightened. “So, if I’m ever questioned, it could have been a mistake, not really a lie.”

“Exactly!” Crowley said triumphantly.

Aziraphale grinned and a happy lilt came into his voice. “I could be VERY inconsistent with my use of the Oxford comma!” he declared.

Crowley made a sound half-way between a scoff and a snicker. “I think you’re going to need more than THAT, Angel. Why don’t you boot up that computer of yours? I’ll see what we can do.”

\--------------------

Four hours later Crowley sat in front of Aziraphale’s ancient computer next to a stack of the angel’s old reports reading over the doctored C.V., a tumbler of scotch in one hand and a nervous Aziraphale pacing back and forth behind him.

“It’s looking good, Angel,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I wasn’t sold on the irregular punctuation at first but you did really make it subtly annoying. I still say you should just put the whole thing in Comic Sans and you’d be home free…”

“Absolutely not!” Aziraphale snapped. “I HAVE standards. Besides, I thought the whole point of this was to not be obvious. I think they might catch on if I submit documents in the official font of Hell’s stationary… Even if they didn’t, I don’t want them thinking I’m THAT incompetent.”

“Suit yourself,” Crowley said with a shrug. "The one you picked is still fairly irritating, I s’pose. I also like the way you play up some of the food contributions. Dessert sushi is especially good, I know you were quite upset when the humans took that one and made the version with the Rice Krispies.”

Aziraphale sighed, as he thought of the affront to sushi chefs worldwide. “Yes, that’s why I said you could take credit for it in Hell.”

“And I appreciated that,” Crowley said with a nod. “It went great on my list with savory Jell-O, aspic, and all those ambrosia salads.”

Aziraphale shuddered. “Did you actually invent any of those things?”

“No.”

“Then why do you take credit for them?”

“Do you know how many family dinners and picnics have been ruined by those things, Angel?”

Aziraphale shook his head and Crowley smirked.

“Trust me, there is no faster way to get humans yelling at each other and corrupting their souls than sticking them in a room full of relatives and forcing them to gag down Aunt Sophie’s latest gelatin monstrosity while they try to avoid talking about politics. It’s only a matter of time before someone breaks. The skill is pushing them closer to the edge.”

“And Hell buys that story?” Aziraphale asked incredulously.

“They have so far,” Crowley answered with a shrug.

There was a moment of silence as Aziraphale poured himself a scotch to match Crowley’s[15] and the demon returned to his reading.

“Ah, see this is good!” Crowley suddenly piped up again. “Very prominently listing your first position as ‘Apple Tree Guard’ was smart, ‘cuz we both know how well THAT went, but I still think you need to water down this stuff about promoting writing and literacy through the ages.”

Aziraphale started to protest and Crowley raised a hand to cut him off.

“I know that’s one of your biggies, but it still looks too good.”

“I cut out the part about developing hieroglyphics,” Aziraphale pointed out. “And the Rosetta Stone!”

“Yes, that’s a great start, but you still have cave paintings, something called ‘prophetic dream communications,’ mass printing bibles, and the invention of the bookmobile!”

“Not in chronological order…”

“Do you WANT to get sent to Ohio?”

“Fine! I’ll cut it down more,” the angel huffed.

Crowley nodded approvingly and continued down the list. “Saved the lives of eight people accused of being witches... Was one of those me?”

“Two of them actually,” Aziraphale said smugly. “You always forget about Seville.”

“Oh yeah, the Inquisition,” Crowley mused. “There’s a few years in there that are always a bit fuzzy what with the hangover.”

“Yes. Well, I’m actually not sure if the witch savings would count as good things or bad things,” Aziraphale said with a small, disapproving head shake at the demon. “It probably depends on who you ask.”

“All the better,” Crowley said with a shrug, and moved down the list. “‘Oversaw Ark Operation in Mesopotamia, largely successful except for the notable loss of the unicorns.’ I suppose if you consider genocide a success…”

“You know upstairs is proud of that mission.”

“Oh yes, I know… ‘look at the rainbow, don’t think about all the murder!’” Crowley mocked.

Aziraphale heaved a put-upon sigh. “Let’s PLEASE not do this again! You know I have no say over policy.”

“Fine!” Crowley said with an eye roll and another swig of his drink.

A moment later he barked out a laugh. “Alright, Angel, this one is good! Special skills include swordsmanship, human communications, and small business management!” The demon cackled and Aziraphale gave a wry smile.

“I was rather proud of that one. I know they all get annoyed when I talk about the shop.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Smart. It’s looking good, er, I mean bad…” Crowley said, sliding out of the chair to give Aziraphale access to the computer again. “Just water down some of the successes more… and add in more food. Trust me.”

“Despite what you may think, I really don’t have that many contributions in that field,” Aziraphale protested. 

“You were the inspiration for the naming of Angel Food Cake,” Crowley said matter-of-factly.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. I did it after I saw how much you enjoyed it when it was first being introduced,” Crowley admitted.

Aziraphale gave him a puzzled look over his shoulder and Crowley squirmed in the distinct way of a person who realizes they may have said too much, before tipping his sunglasses back down over his eyes. “You’re welcome,” he said with a shrug.

Aziraphale stared blankly at the demon for a moment longer then shook his head and returned his attention to the computer.

“Yes. Well… I’ll just add that in then.”

“And make your capitalization more erratic on those bullet points,” Crowley said, jabbing a finger at the screen, glad to move on from the subject.

Aziraphale nodded. He wasn’t sure what to make of his friend’s confession, but he couldn’t help a small, pleased smile coming to his lips at the thought when he was sure the demon couldn’t see.

\----------------------------------———--

** 1 Month Later **

Aziraphale was making tea this time when the bookshop door banged open unceremoniously and he was quite proud of himself for not dropping his mug when the racket caused him to jump.

“Aziraphale, I need your latest report on Hell’s movements and your progress thwarting them, and I need them quickly. I have an Archangels’ meeting with the Metatron in an hour and he’ll want a status update for the Almighty,” Gabriel barked without pretext. He seemed much less cheerful than he had on his last visit.

“Right away,” Aziraphale said with a quick nod, setting down his tea to grab the report off his desk. “I’ve uncovered more information on this ‘Y-2-K’ business the demon Crowley is planning. Sounds frightfully dangerous for humans, but I have no doubt I’ll be able to thwart it.[16] You know I am fond of these computer inventions,” he said with an affectionate nod at his outdated machine.

“Yes, alright. Glad to hear it,” Gabriel said, with the tone of a person who had not actually heard anything he’d just been told, let alone been glad to do so. “I should be going now.”

Before he could snap his fingers to leave, Aziraphale interrupted him, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Um, Gabriel, before you go, I was wondering, did the Metatron ever make a decision on that America assignment?”

Gabriel’s face morphed into an infinitesimal grimace. “Yes. Kariel got the position. She’s quite excited to be stationed on Earth long-term again. Hasn’t been down here since the Crusades. Sorry Aziraphale, there wasn’t much said about the other applicants.”

The disapproving look he gave the principality suggested that the Archangel might not have been completely honest about the situation, and a part of Aziraphale wondered what had been said about his truly bizarre application, but he simply nodded. _Best not rock the boat_.

“Ah, yes, well, these things happen,” he said, doing his best to look disappointed. “Tell Kariel she’s free to contact me if she needs anything.”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, noncommittally. “Goodbye Aziraphale.” And with a snap and flash of light he was gone again.

The smell of ozone had barely cleared the air before Aziraphale was standing at his rotary phone dialing Crowley’s number.

“Crowley?” the angel asked as soon as the demon picked up, barely able to contain the glee in his voice. “It’s me! I just talked to Gabriel; it worked! I’m not going to America!”

Aziraphale heard Crowley laugh triumphantly.

“Wahoo!” the demon replied.

* * *

[1] Aziraphale was usually terminally punctual.

[2] Though he noticed in 1941 that the system had changed again in the time of their holy water feud.

[3] And mostly unnecessary

[4] Not every animal on Earth had stayed exactly the same as the day it was created over the past 6000 years

[5] The plan was obviously not Hell’s but Crowley was somewhat jealous he hadn’t thought of it and had in recent decades taken to stirring up the debate from time to time in one country or another (mostly America) to simultaneously amuse himself and annoy Aziraphale, whose efforts to quash the issue had been half-hearted at best and ultimately unsuccessful.

[6] He was very grateful he had decided not to pour himself a drink too, as it would undoubtedly be soaking the already stressed angel’s antique clothes now and he knew neither of them needed that at the moment.

[7] Which he was sure he had locked!

[8] Their cultural offers had always been good.

[9] He’d heard excellent things about their culinary scene from Crowley after his stay there in the 1920’s.

[10] Aziraphale didn’t.

[11] Gabriel didn’t either. He just scanned the reports from the Earth observation department.

[12] Aziraphale technically had one but he’d only ever had to submit it for mid-millennium reviews. He hand’t actually applied for anything since his request for a transfer out of the Egyptian assignment (he’d grown incomprehensibly bored after 20 years wandering in the desert, but his request had been denied and he’d mostly given up on trying to have any say in his assignments after that.) 

[13] He was an angel after all… and he wasn’t about to let the high-quality sushi he’d had for lunch go to waste like that.

[14] And more than a little unsettled by the notion of another angel being sent to thwart him.

[15] He was going to need it at this rate.

[16] In fact, Crowley had assured him that the Y2K crash would be nothing more than a scare tactic. ‘The computers won’t actually crash,’ the demon had said confidently over his glass of wine after they’d finished doctoring his paperwork. ‘I’m just encouraging the rumors that they will because everyone thinking they will will score lots of chaos points for me downstairs, and then when nothing happens you can claim it’s because you miraculously reversed it at the last minute and everybody will be happy.’ It had seemed like a good plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Apologies to anybody reading this from Ohio, but that is where my ex is from and where he non-consensually tried to get me a job interview with his dad's friend because he thought I needed to "spread my wings" and move away (even though I had no desire to do so). In the midst of a panic attack about how I was going to get out of it my brother came up with the idea of sabotaging my own resume (including the rejected suggestion that I put the whole thing in Comic Sans). It worked! 
> 
> To anybody unfamiliar with my other works, "Prophetic Dream Communications" is a reference to my multi-chapter fic Double-0 Omens, which I encourage you to check out. :)
> 
> One last note: I know a lot of the food things I talked about are very American, I don't know if they are popular anywhere else in the world but I assume Crowley has spent time more time than Aziraphale in the U.S. coming up with annoying things and taking credit for ones he didn't come up with himself. If you've never heard of them, Google it! Some of them are truly horrifying and literally everyone's family has some weird version of a Jell-O dish they make at the holidays even though nobody really likes it that much. A hat tip also goes to Whitely Foster's Jazz Baby comic for the addition of Aspic to the list.  
> I was not familiar with the concept of Dessert Sushi until someone suggested to me Aziraphale invented it and when I looked it up the top two results were a delicious looking fruit and coconut-milk concoction, which I absolutely think the angel would have inspired, and a monstrosity made with candy and Rice Krispy treats which I figured Aziraphale would be offended by the mere sight of. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading this little bit of self-indulgent fluff! And Happy bEarthday! If you enjoyed this please let me know with comments and kudos! They always make my day. You can also find me on social media at [Tumblr](https://supergeek21.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jessiemarie921/), or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/JessieMarie921) for updates on my other stories. 
> 
> To the World! 🥂


End file.
